Redemption
by TheatreGirl81
Summary: Having survived the barricades, Grantaire, Eponine and Enjolras attempt to make a new life. And when Grantaire "saves" Azelma, he realizes, that maybe, he can have a chance at happiness as well.
1. Chapter 1

Grantaire stumbled around the barricade, unsure of what to do or how to help. Things were bad. Very bad. Everywhere people were dead or dying. His friends' bodies were strewn around; broken rag dolls riddled with bullets by the damn National Guard.

They wouldn't have known it, but he was actually sober. Something about seeing your closest companions being shot in the back tended to clear your mind. It had been Jolly he'd watched die. Grantaire had tried to get to him in time, had called out to warn him, but he had been too far away.

But that soldier… Grantaire had taken care of him. While the man had bent over Joly's body Grantaire had come up behind the man and choked him into submission before using the soldier's own gun on him.

And now that wore the dead man's hat and coat he could move around the barricade unchecked. He went in and out of the buildings looking for anyone left alive. So far he hadn't found anyone that could be saved.

Enjolras tightened the tourniquet on his arm and secured a bandage over a gash in his side before resting his head against an empty shelf. He wasn't a coward by any means; he was merely holed up in the wine shop trying to stay alive. Someone needed to survive this massacre and keep hope alive for the poor people of France. The revolution would live on.

When he heard the door open Enjolras scurried behind the shelf. Peeking out, he sneered at the National Guard that stepped into the room. The revolutionary searched in vain for a weapon. Defenseless or not he would not go out without a fight. He picked up a wine bottle as he could smash it over someone's head. Contemplating that brought a sad smile to his lips as he thought of Grantaire.

The man moved further into the shop. "Is anyone in here? There's no use in hiding, I will find you."

Enjolras blinked uncomprehending. The man sounded like Grantaire; but why would he be dressed like the enemy unless… It was brilliant! His friend was looking for survivors while fooling the National Guard.

"Grantaire?"

"Enjolras, is that you?"

The wounded man limped out from his hiding place. "It's good to see you, my friend."

The two embraced.

"Are there any others alive?" Enjolras asked.

Grantaire shook his head. "Not that I've found. I tried to help, but I couldn't save anyone. But I took down a few of them; that's how I got this outfit."

Enjolras looked down. "So everyone, even Marius, is dead?"

"Marius was wounded," Grantaire explained. "But I'm not sure what became of him."

"This was a disaster," Enjolras whispered. "I cause this, the deaths of all my friends."

Grantaire clasped Enjolras on the shoulder. "It's not your fault; you didn't know this would happen. Hell, if I had been sober I could have saved a few more people."

"Take your own advice," Enjolras told him. "Maybe if I had loosened up and had a drink or two I could have been talked out of this madness."

"Let's just keep looking for survivors," Grantaire said. "I haven't searched everywhere."

In another room they found an unconscious woman with several wrapped wounds. On closer inspection Grantaire found the girl was breathing, but just barely. It seemed that she had passed out and had been left for dead, a cruel fate for anyone let alone a woman.

But when he brushed the hair out of the girl's face he paled. "Enjolras, it's Eponine!"

"Eponine?" Enjolras crossed the room and knelt down, ignoring the pain in his side. "Marius said she was dead."

"He obviously tended her wounds and tried to help her," Grantaire observed. "Maybe she fainted and he thought she…"

"We have to get her help," Enjolras said, cutting off his friend. "We also need to get as far away as possible. Have you seen Marius' body?"

"I've seen a lot," Grantaire replied darkly. "Too much, actually. Marius was wounded and carried off by… by that man who saved your life. I haven't seen either of them since."

The men slipped away from the barricade, Eponine wrapped in Grantaire's arms since Enjolras was injured. The two found horses and rode off in search of a safe place to recover. They only hoped Eponine could hold on.

Grantaire paced the hall of the monastery, worried sick over his friends. For once he had even passed on a cup of hot ale, deciding instead to drink a strong tea. Enjolras had been quickly tended to and he was sleeping off his exhaustion.

Eponine was a different case. The monks were unsure if she would recover, as she had been gravely wounded and then left to bleed for an unknown amount of time. Only time would tell if she would ever wake up.

"Monsieur?"

Grantaire turned towards the monk who had addressed him. "Yes?"

"Would you like to go sit with your friends?" he asked.

"Is Eponine awake?" Grantaire asked hopefully.

"Not yet," the monk replied. "We have been praying for her."

"So have I," Grantaire replied. "Thank you again for all you've done."

The monk nodded. "Of course."

Enjolras snapped awake breathing heavy and clasped his hand to his heart. The smoke and screaming had stopped as soon as his eyes opened, but he wasn't used to nightmares that plagued his attempt at peace.

He tried to regain his bearings, reminding himself that the stone walls surrounding him were a monastery and not a prison. Glancing to his left, Enjolras saw Grantaire passed out in one of the other beds. Looking to his right his heart dropped.

Eponine didn't look like she was sleeping, she looked dead. She was pale and Enjolras had to move to her side before he could tell that she was breathing. Sitting on the bed he took her hand and tried to rub some warmth back into it.

"Marius, you ass," he cursed. "It's your fault this happened to her." He stroked the hair out of his face. "If it had been me, Eponine, I would have dedicated myself to you."

"But that's how you are, my friend." Grantaire propped himself up on his arm. "You're very single minded and you give yourself fully to your causes. This is why all the girls loved you; they all wanted to be the center of your world."

"This isn't about me," Enjolras argued, although a flush colored his face. "This is about Eponine giving everything to Marius and him turning his back on her. She saved his life for god sake and what did he do in return? He left her to die alone." He clenched his hands into tight fists and winced at the pain that shot up his left arm.

"I didn't realize Eponine cared about him that much," Grantaire admitted. "We all made fun of Marius when he fell for that Cosette girl, but look at everything Eponine did for them. She ran letters back and forth between them and she was the reason those two met. I can't imagine the heartache she was feeling listening to him go on and on about Cosette."

Enjolras smiled. "I didn't realize you had such empathy."

Grantaire shrugged. "I guess it comes with sobriety. Now that I'm not numb to the world I suddenly care. I don't know if I like it."

Enjolras laughed. "You are one of a kind, Grantaire."

The other man flashed a warm smile. "I'd hope so."

"Eponine is going to need us to get her though this," Enjolras said. "Are you up for that?"

"Of course I am," Grantaire said. "And speaking of, when she wakes up we should talk about getting out of here. I don't want to impose on these good men longer than necessary."

"We don't have much money," Enjolras said. "Where would we go and who would take us in; we're wanted men."

"Do you really think that?" Grantaire asked. "We're dead. Enjolras. The National Guard won't want to admit that you escaped so we're free to start a new life. And I have money."

"You didn't steal it, did you?"

"Dead men can't take it with them," Grantaire said. "And don't look at me like that, those men were ruthless, they owe us."

"You better confess before we leave here," Enjolras said, shaking his head. "It would be good for you soul."

A muffled sigh drew the men's attention.

"Eponine?" Enjolras slid his hand in hers again. "We're here."

"Marius…?" She whispered.

"It's Enjolras, 'ponine. Grantaire is here too."

"Where am I? What…"

"Shhh," Grantaire soothed. "Just rest Eponine; you're safe now."

"Safe?" she whispered. "I'm alive. Is Marius…" She broke off and coughed. "Is he alright? Where is he?"

"I can't say how or where he is," Enjolras told her gently. "Someone took him from the barricade, a friend we think, but we haven't seen either of them. We were more concerned about you."

"I can't…" Eponine began to tear up. "I can't do this… Why I alive? Where's my brother? Who else survived?"

"You need rest," Enjolras told her. "You're scared and worked up and right now you need sleep. We're here to watch over you, trust us, 'ponine."

"But you won't answer my questions."

"We won't lie to you," Grantaire said. "But you're not ready to hear everything right now. You were badly injured and you need to focus on getting better."

During the next two days while Eponine recovered Grantaire struck out to find a place for them to stay. He found a small cottage for low rent and arranged to lease it for at least two months.

Despite his wounded arm, Enjolras tended to Eponine. She had nightmares about the barricades and cried for an hour straight when she was told about her brother's death. Enjolras had held her and let her cry on his shoulder.

She had clung to him and he had felt horrible when he realized how much he missed holding a girl in his arms. He thought about what Grantaire had said: that when he focused on something he gave his all.

Enjolras knew that he could give all his attention to Eponine; she deserved it after everything she'd been through. But could he turn her thoughts away from Marius? That he wasn't sure of.

Enjolras stood in the small foyer of the cottage. "Grantaire is a terrible cook but we'll find a housekeeper who can help you with your… a maid. Well get you a maid."

"Thank you," she whispered. "Thank you both."

"Anything to help," Grantaire replied. He held out a loaf of bread. "Eat this; it'll help keep your strength up."

"Did you bake it?" Eponine questioned.

Grantaire shook his head and reached for a bottle on the end table. "No, I bought it along with some cheese, meat…"

"And ale," Enjolras cut in. "Grantaire never forgets the ale."

"I think the ale would do us all some good," Eponine spoke up.

"Then let's celebrate our new life," Grantaire said. "To friends, health, and happiness."

"No… No, NO!"

Eponine screamed and the sound of breaking glass brought Grantaire, Enjolras, and the maid. All three ran into the sitting room of the cottage poised for the worst. The maid held a rolling pin, Grantaire his perpetually full bottle of ale, and Enjolras had grabbed the poker from the fire place.

"Miss, what's wrong?" the maid questioned. "You almost gave us heart attacks, what with your banshee scream."

Eponine looked up from her place on the floor, eyes pleading with Enjolras. "Tell me it's not true."

Enjolras knelt down and held Eponine close. "What happened? What has you so upset?"

"Does it have to do with this?" Grantaire picked up the morning paper which had been carelessly tossed on the floor.

"He… She… The banns," Eponine muttered.

Grantaire scanned the page and then paled. " 'Marius Pontmecy, son of the late Colonel Pontmercy, to wed Miss Cosette, the daughter of M. Fauchelevent'." He balled the paper between his hands.

"I hate her!" Eponine cried. "Why should she get everything? Why couldn't my father just leave well enough alone? Why did he have to so greedy and try to take her back? I was glad to be of her, she should have never been with us in the first place. I wish he'd never seen her!"

"I'm done with him," Grantaire sneered. "That boy wouldn't know love it bit him in the…"

"Sir," the maid interrupted. "The Miss doesn't need this. Shall I put some tea on for her?"

"Yes, thank you," Enjolras replied. "I'll take her to her room."

"You can't tell me this doesn't make you angry," Grantaire argued.

"Of course it does," Enjolras replied. "This is not how I would want Eponine to find this out. If I had known I would have told her…" He took a breath and looked into the eyes of the girl in his arms. "Told you in a gentler fashion."

"Why? She questioned. "Why are you acting like this?"

"You're asking why we're being nice to you?" Grantaire questioned.

"Because someone needs to take care of you," Enjolras replied. "And I care about your feelings. I never wanted to see you hurt, 'ponine; especially not over a boy who doesn't deserve you."

Eponine whimpered and hugged Enjolras tighter. He kissed her forehead and lifted her off of the floor. Grantaire watched with a heavy heart as Enjolras carried Eponine from the room. He took another swig of ale and then looked at the crumbled paper in his hand. Unwrinkling it, he read the devastating words again; this time going further down the page.

"This is yesterday's paper," he muttered. Which means the wedding feast is tomorrow. Maybe I should pay my respects to the groom…"


	2. Chapter 2

"I feel so silly crying like this," Eponine said. She buried her head in the pillow. She had hardly touched her tea before her eyes filled with tears.

"It'll be alright, you'll see."

"No it won't," she mumbled. "You've been so good to me and this is how I thank you. I can't do anything right."

Enjolras sat down on the edge of the bed. "It's not you, believe me 'ponine. We know you're upset; it's just that… Well Grantaire and I are not good at comforting women. I'm probably doing this all wrong."

Eponine managed a small laugh. "You've done more than most would. More than most have."

"Marius told us about you," Enjolras tried. "He saw how your family lived and that your father made you do to advance his selfish plans. He admired you for not giving in completely to…"

"Don't," Eponine whispered. "Don't talk about Marius."

Enjolras looked down. "I'm sorry. I'm not good at this, taking care of my friends." His thoughts lingered back to the massacre at the barricade. "I know what it's like to lose everything and everyone. It leaves you empty inside and sometimes…"

Eponine rolled over. "Sometimes you think you should have died with them." She took his hand.

"Maybe we both should have."

"Maybe we did," Eponine whispered, her eyes lingering on his face. "Maybe this is our reward – being stuck with each other for eternity – or maybe it's a punishment. They wouldn't have cooking as bad as Grantaire's in Paradise."

Enjolras smiled. "And I thought I was bad at this."

Eponine sat up and Enjolras hugged her tightly. Both of them were laughing now and it helped to lighten the mood. Pulling back, Enjolras studied Eponine before brushing a strand of hair out of her face.

His lips curved into a smile. "That one errant piece never stays in place." His fingers trailed against her cheek.

"I like your smile." Her words were barely a whisper.

"Did you say something?" Enjolras questioned.

"I like your smile," she repeated. "And your eyes… You have pretty eyes."

"Eponine…"

"I want to forget," she whispered. "Make me forget, Enjolras."

He was hesitant. "Are you sure?"

"I have to do this, have to move on. I'm scared Enjolras; but I feel safe with you. You'd never hurt me."

He pulled Eponine tight against him and indulged her request. The kiss was soft and tender and Enjolras soon found himself drowning in a sweet feeling that he thought he'd never feel again. Eponine swooned against him and Enjolras savored the feel of the moment, the innocent trust, and the swell of deeper feelings.

Grantaire was already in the kitchen when Enjolras came in the next morning. "Good morning."

"There's no food in the house so I sent Anne to go get some," Grantaire said smoothly, eyes never leaving the newspaper.

"Good to know," Enjolras replied. "Everything alright?"

"Why wouldn't it be?"

"Morning Grantaire," Eponine said as she walked into the room. "What, no breakfast for us?"

"Morning," Enjolras said, kissing Eponine on the cheek.

Grantaire raised his eyes. "You two seem happy."

"For the first time in days I feel better," Eponine said. "I think it was the talk we had last night."

"I told you it would all turn out," Enjolras said.

"I think I'm going to go for walk," Grantaire said as he got up. "If Anne comes back first you two go ahead and eat without me."

"Grantaire, what's wrong?" Eponine questioned.

Grantaire shrugged. "Nothing. There just isn't much to say."

"Maybe we should…"

"No Enjolras, there's no need to talk," Grantaire assured his friend. "I'm fine, really. I want the two of you to be happy. It's not my place to ask what happened last night, but you two are good for each other."

"If we said something wrong…" Eponine began.

"It's not you," Grantaire said. "Besides, I have somewhere to be around lunch time anyway." He grabbed his coat and headed for the door. "And don't you dare change your mind about this because of me," he ordered.

In truth Grantaire was feeling left out, but there was no way he would let his own feelings jeopardize the happiness that his friends deserved. Besides, maybe seeing Marius would lift his spirits.

Well this was a sight!

Grantaire was watching the door to the Pontmercy house with great interest. Marius was yelling – no screaming – at a man crawling backwards in the dirt. The man was dressed in ratty clothing picking up some scattered coins. Cosette and her father were huddling in the doorway and a girl was hiding behind a street light.

Seeing the new man arriving, the mousy girl darted over to him. "Please monsieur, you have to stop this!"

"What's going on?" Grantaire asked.

"Monsieur Pontmercy is going to kill my father and Monsieur Fauchelevent won't step in and stop it!"

"I'm not going to kill anyone, but if your father ever comes near my wife or her father with these false claims again I will turn you over to the police," Marius promised. "Just take your money and go."

"Marius!"

The startled boy looked up. "Grantaire! My god, you're alive!"

"Never mind that," Grantaire said, waving him off. "You seem to be having problems."

"Nothing I can't handle," Marius said. "This man, Thenardier, was making false claims against my wife's father."

"I remember Monsieur Fauchelevent," Grantaire said. "He saved Enjolras' life. He's safe from my ire, but you're not, Marius. And neither is Thenardier."

Grantaire, I don't understand," Marius said. "I find out you're alive and all you want to do is berate me? What have I done?"

What did you do?" Grantaire backed Marius into the side of the house and grabbed his shirt. " 'What did I do?', he asks. You know what you did."

He lifted Marius off the ground, making Cosette and the other girl cry out.

"Now see here," Fauchelevent began.

"Stay out of this, old man," Grantaire growled. "He left Eponine to die and won't stand for that."

"No," Marius countered. "I stayed with her, I was at her side." His eyes were moist with tears. "She was at peace."

"She could have been saved," Grantaire said, dropping the other man. "She was alive when you left her behind. It's your fault."

"You lie," Fauchelevent said.

"To what ends?" Grantaire questioned. "I found her unconscious and just barely breathing. There wasn't much to be done for her then, just pray." He hoped his words were cryptic enough, as he didn't want Marius to know Eponine survived.

"What have I done, 'ponine?" Marius whispered.

"So she is dead," the dark haired girl whispered.

"Don't pretend that you care, Azelma," Cosette snapped. "You were never anything but pampered and spoiled."

"That doesn't mean I didn't love my sister!" Azalma yelled. "At least I'm mourning her, did you even cry when Marius told you she was dead?"

"Why would I cry over her death when she treated me like a servant?" Cosette replied. "As far as I'm concerned…"

"As far as I'm concerned no one should speak ill of the dead," Marius cut in.

"It all makes sense now," Grantaire spoke up. "You're her sister Azalma. Eponine told us about her other sister and her three little brothers."

"The boys," Azelma whispered. "They're all dead."

"Which leads me to you, Thenardier," Grantaire said. "You don't give a damn about any of your children, do you? Eponine and Gavroche died at the barricades and here you are trying to make a pretty penny by blackmailing Marius or Fauchelevent or both of them. People like you make me sick! I'm leaving."

"At least come in and have a drink with us," Marius implored. "We should… talk. We need to talk."

"I have nothing more to say to you," Grantaire said.

"Please." Marius clasped his friend on the shoulder.

Grantaire pulled away and punched Marius, sending his sprawling to the ground. Cosette cried out and ran to his side.

"Now see here," Fauchelevent started, "there is no reason…"

"Just stop," Grantaire cut in. "I don't want to hear it, and I'm leaving. Don't worry, you won't be hearing from me again." He turned to go.

Thenardier got to his feet and grabbed Azelma by the wrist. "Let's be gone too."

"You really don't care, do you?" she questioned. "Not about Eponine or Gavroche or any of us? We're just here to help you make money."

"That's enough of this talk," he barked, tightening his grip. "Let's get on home."

"You're hurting me."

"Let her go," Marius threatened. "That's no way to treat a girl."

"Like you're one to talk," Thenardier rebuked.

Cosette turned her back. "She's not worth it, Marius. Let's go back in; this day has already been ruined."

Azelma pulled free from her father and ran to Grantaire. "Please Monsieur, take me with you; take me away. I don't want to do this anymore. I can't stay with him any longer."

Squaring his shoulders, Grantaire put an arm around Azelma's shoulders and steered her away from the others.

"You're wrist looks sprained," he whispered.

She lowered her head. "I've dealt with worse.

"Good performance, my girl," Thenardier called. "I'll come find you later; you know I'll find you anywhere. I'll forgive you for this if you bring me back something pretty." He turned back towards the house and paled.

Marius and five of his friends were advancing, closing in on the thief with rope.

"Tie him up tight, boys," Marius said. "I don't him to get away before the police arrive."

Grantaire brought Azelma into the cottage and sat her down at the table. "You sit right here, I'll be right back."

"Sir?" Anne questioned. "Is there anything I can do?"

"Yes, good thinking. Go find me a bandage." He got up and poured some ale into a kettle and heated it over the fire.

Enjolras came into the room. "Grantaire, what's wrong? Anne said you brought a girl…"

"Azelma?"

The younger girl got to her feet despite the throbbing pain in her wrist. "Eponine? I thought… He said you were dead!"

Eponine ran to her sister and embraced her. "I almost did; I was so close but somehow Enjolras and Grantaire saved me.

"I told Marius and Thenardier she was dead," Grantaire explained to the others. "When I realized who you were Azelma I decided to bring you here. I just couldn't risk them following us."

Eponine threw her arms around Grantaire. "Thank you. Thank you so much!"

Grantaire smiled and scratched the back of his head. "Saving pretty girls has its perks. I could get used to this."


	3. Chapter 3

"No… NO!"

Azelma woke with a start, shaken awake by her sister's cries. Instinctively, she wrapped her arms around Eponine and rocked her. It was second nature, the two of them sharing a room, they had always been poor and personal space was something neither of them was used to. But the terror in her sister's voice…

But what shook Azelma to full alertness was when the door opened and two men came rushing in, looking worried. They were sleep tossed and looked as if they had dressed quickly, or had been sleeping in their clothing. They held candles, which brightened the modest room.

"Eponine, are you alright?" the blond man asked, setting his candle holder on the side table. He was about to perch on the edge of the bed, but stopped as his eyes flicked to the other girl.

Azelma put a hand to her thumping heart. It was Enjolras and Grantaire. Anne, the maid, hung back in the doorway. In the heat of her sister's nightmare she had forgotten where she was; whose house she was staying in.

"It was another nightmare," Eponine replied shakily. "I… I'm sorry to wake you. Was I really screaming that loud?"

"We weren't really sleeping," Grantaire said. "At least I wasn't."

"It's passed now," Azelma whispered as she stroked Eponine's hair. "I don't remember you ever having bad dreams."

"I've seen too much," she whispered. "Been through too much. I'm glad you're here with me."

"Me too," Azelma replied. She brushed away her sister's tears. "And I'm glad to know you have such faithful men to watch over you." She looked down. "It's about time you were properly taken care of."

"You can stay too," Grantaire spoke up.

Azelma looked up, confused. "What?"

"You can stay as well," the dark haired man replied. "I didn't invite you here for one night or a few days. Please, stay as long as you want, our house is yours."

"I…"

Eponine took her sister's hand. "Azelma, do you have anywhere else to go?" Focusing on her sister took her mind off the nightmare.

"Just… just back to father." She cradled her wrapped wrist.

"Then it's settled," Enjolras said. "You'll stay here."

"I… I couldn't impose."

Eponine steeled her features. "Azelma, be quiet and listen to me. You will stay here and that is final."

Azelma shrank back. "I… I'll stay. Thank you for the hospitality. But what if father comes after me? He said he would."

"He's locked up," Grantaire told her. "He won't be bothering us. Besides, no one knows where we're staying."

"You should try to get back to sleep," Enjolras told her. "Everything will be better in the morning."

"I think… I think I need a little air," Azelma whispered. "Do you mind, Eponine?"

"No. I'll be alright," she assured her sister.

"I'll stay with her," Enjolras replied.

Azelma smiled knowingly as she got out of the bed. "Take care of her."

"Always." Even in the meager candle light Azelma could see the promise in Enjolras' eyes.

She slid Eponine's robe around her shoulders and left the room. She was vaguely aware of Grantaire following her, but he went to the kitchen. The maid retreated to her own room as well.

Azelma went to the washroom and splashed some water on her face. She slipped into her tattered coat and worn shoes and stepped out into the night. But it was cold and the wind whipped around the frail girl, chilling her to the bone. Azelma found she hated to be alone in this unfamiliar place and quickly returned to the warmth of the cottage; having spent less than ten minutes outside.

It wasn't a big house, so when she stepped in she could see into the kitchen. Grantaire was at the table with a flask of ale. He half-heartedly saluted her with the container.

"Too cold for you?"

"Just a bit."

She took a moment to study his face in the light of the room. His curly hair was still mussed and it looked like he hadn't shaved in a few days. He was handsome in a rough way; worn down by a life she could sympathize with.

"Would you like a drink? This will warm your bones in no time."

"Thank you," she moved to sit at the table and reached for the container.

"Let me get you a glass."

"There's no need." Azelma tipped the flask to her lips and took a hearty drink before wiping her mouth on the sleeve of her coat.

Grantaire just stared.

Azelma flinched under the weight of his gaze. "Sorry, sometime I don't have the best manners."

"No need to apologize," he assured her. "I've never met a girl like you. Actually I don't know many girls at all. I tend to admire them from afar. I'm not good at talking to ladies, I always get tongue tied."

The words escaped Azelma's lips before she could stop them. "Then I guess I'm not much of a lady if you can talk to me this easily."

Grantaire looked shocked. "Why would you say that?"

Azelma took another drink and shook her head.

"I can talk to you because I've been drinking most of the night," Grantaire told her. "This is on me, not you. God, you and Eponine both."

"What about us?"

Grantaire ran a hand through his tangled hair. "You're so down on yourself; there's no confidence; just the need to diminish yourselves."

"Such is life," she replied. A tear slid down her cheek.

"No, don't do that," Grantaire said. "Don't cry." He grabbed her hand but let out a surprised gasp. "What happened?"

Azelma pulled her scarred hand away and curled it against her chest. "I cut it. On broken glass. I don't want to talk about it."

Grantaire took the flask back and helped himself to a drink. "So… What do you want to talk about?"

Azelma looked down. "What about Eponine? Why is she having these nightmares?"

Grantaire sighed. "It was the barricades. There was so much death; it's enough to haunt anyone's dreams."

"I'm sorry," she whispered. "I'm saying all the wrong things."

"It's alright," he assured her. "You can't dream if you don't sleep."

"But… You have to sleep at some point."

"I prefer blissful unconsciousness."

"That sounds nice," Azelma agreed. She wrung her hands. "I'd like to know what that feels like."

Grantaire smiled sadly and slid the ale across the table. "Welcome to my world, sweetheart."

Enjolras awoke to Eponine curled against him. She was lightly stroking his arm, whether she had been trying to wake him or not, Enjolras wasn't sure.

"Morning." He was still half asleep.

"You're still here."

"Where else would I be?" He pressed a kiss to her temple.

Eponine pulled away. "If you're still here that means Azelma never came back."

The light of recognition dawned on his handsome face and Enjolras bolted out of bed. Eponine was on his heels as they went to look for the missing girl. But Anne stopped them in the hallway.

"Hush, don't make too much noise," the maid instructed.

"But my sister…"

"Is in the other bedroom, fast asleep."

"I feel bad," Eponine whispered. "She could have come back."

"I would have gladly moved," Enjolras agreed. "Where's Grantaire?"

"Abed on the couch," Anne told him. "He got into his nightly ritual again."

"Then why do need to be quiet?" Eponine inquired. "In that state he'll sleep through cannon fire."

"Don't ever say I never try to be nice to the lot of you." Anne turned away and went to begin her morning cleaning.

Eponine went about her morning routine in the washroom while Enjolras made coffee and collected the empty ale flasks that Grantaire had drained. With this habit eating up much of their coin it was a wonder they had money left. Enjolras knew they would soon have to get jobs so they could stay afloat. But would they be able to with their histories as rebels?

A noise that sounded like a growl mixed with a grunt drew Enjolras' attention to the sitting room. Grantaire rose from the couch and staggered to the hallway. He pushed open the washroom door without a care; which sent Eponine rushing out with a surprised squawk.

"Did you see that?" she demanded. "He didn't even knock, just barged right in."

Enjolras handed her a cup of coffee. "Best let him alone until he wakes up. Damn drunken stupors. Shall I cook this morning?"

"Let me do it," Eponine offered.

"Is there any coffee left?" Grantaire asked as he stumbled into the room.

"We have plenty of coffee," Enjolras replied with a snarky tone. "It's the ale we're running low on."

"I'll buy more when I go out," Grantaire replied.

"And where are you going to get the money?"

"We still have plenty," Grantaire said as he fixed his coffee. "You're grumpy this morning. I'd have thought your company would have brightened your mood."

"Speaking of company," Eponine interrupted, "keep your voice down or you'll wake my sister."

"Your sister will be asleep for a while," Grantaire told her. "She and I were up late commiserating over the ale."

"So that's why she never came back to bed," Eponine replied. "Because you were getting her drunk?"

"It was her choice," Grantaire snapped. "I didn't force her into anything. She wanted to forget her bad night and your father. And speaking of Azelma, where did she get those scars?"

Eponine was about to retort, but Grantaire's concern for her sister made her stop. "What?"

"The scars on her hand," he replied. "She wouldn't tell me the whole story."

Eponine was at a loss. "She cut it."

Grantaire nodded. "On broken glass? There had to have been a lot for her whole hand to be scarred."

"She broke a window," Eponine relented.

"If it was an accident why all the secrecy?" Enjolras asked.

"It wasn't an accident," Eponine confided. "She put her hand through it on purpose. It was father who made her do it."

Grantaire's face went dark. "He made her break out a window? By putting her fist through it?"

"He wanted to swindle money out of Cosette's father," Eponine explained. "So he wanted us to look even poorer than we were. Broken windows, bleeding children…"

"I'm going to kill him," Enjolras growled. "How dare that man exploit innocents like that?"

"Such were our lives," Eponine replied sadly.

"That's exactly what Azelma said," Grantaire spoke up. "That's why she wanted to drink; to forget."

"But you have to remember that's all in the past now," Eponine said. "It was horrible, but it's all over now."

"Can you be sure?" a soft voice asked.

The others looked over to see that Azelma had emerged from the bedroom.

"We won't let him hurt you again," Enjolras vowed.

"But he said he'd find me?" Azelma whimpered. "He thought I was acting and he is going to come here and take me away and I don't want to go back." She was shaking and the tears began to sting her eyes. She ran to Grantaire and threw her arms around his waist. "Please… please don't let him take me!"

Grantaire was taken aback and wavered on his feet from the surprise assault. After a moment he regained his balance and wrapped his arms around her trembling body.

The day went on as normal. Azelma went out with Eponine to shop for food and Grantaire went in search of more ale. Enjolras continued his quest to find suitable jobs for them and Anne, glad everyone had left her, began to scrub down the house.

Grantaire was sprawled out on the couch when the girls came back from shopping. He got up and relived Eponine of two of the bags she was carrying.

"Thank you," she replied.

"We can put it all away," Azelma said.

"If you're sure."

"It's ok, Eponine. I want to feel like I'm useful."

"Azelma, stop worrying," Eponine told her. But she left her sister to put away the groceries.

Grantaire cleared his throat. "If you need me…"

"I do," she replied all too quickly. She flushed. "I mean I need to talk to you. To apologize."

"For what?" Grantaire looked perplexed.

"For how I acted last night and then for this morning." Azelma's hair fell into her face, obscuring her almost completely.

Grantaire took her by the shoulders. "Azelma, stop this nonsense right now. You have every right to be upset; I'd be worried if you weren't. Everyone needs to be comforted from time to time so if you need someone to go to I'm here."

"If you're sure…"

"I insist. And as a matter of fact…"

He trailed off and tipped her chin up. She was shaking again, unsure of what he was about to do. Grantaire pushed the hair out of face and kissed her gently. Azelma gasped out and he pulled away, not wanting to frighten her.

"I'm sorry," Grantaire whispered.

"You… You need comfort too?"

Grantaire nodded. "I do. And it's getting tougher to watch Enjolras and your sister finally finding happiness. I feel like a cad, being jealous of their joy." He dropped into a chair. "I've been through hell too and damn it… I'm only a man. I can only take so much."

Azelma stepped forward and laid a hand on his shoulder. "I'm here. Grantaire, if you need someone, I'm here."

He looked up. "Azelma…"

It was her turn to lean in and kiss him.


	4. Chapter 4

Eponine slipped into the room where Azelma was getting ready for bed.

"The boys are arguing about money again," she said.

Azelma nodded. "Enjolras came home empty handed again. There just aren't any jobs here."

"What if we moved"? Eponine suggested. "Maybe we could get work in another town."

"Sure."

Eponine studied her sister. "What's wrong? You seem distracted."

"It's nothing," Azelma whispered. "Nothing bad anyway."

"Well if something good happened I'd hope you'd tell me."

Azelma flushed. "It's kind of… personal."

"Personal huh?" Eponine questioned. "Did you and Grantaire have another heart to heart earlier when I left?"

Azelma nodded. "He said… he said I could always go to him if I needed comfort." She quickly added: "But I only would if you were busy with Enjolras and I wouldn't want to disturb you. And by comfort I only mean someone to talk to who understands about… I don' know. He just… understands. He knows how to forget the bad things."

Eponine's lips quirked. "And?

"He might have kissed me."

"And," Eponine prompted again.

"I think I might have liked it. And I think I might like him."

"That wasn't so hard, was it? I'm happy for you, just be careful until you know for sure what his intentions are. But at least we know that he wants to keep you safe. A need to protect is a very good trait for a man to have."

Azelma nodded in agreement. "The way he and Enjolras both reacted to father… Eponine that's it!"

"What?"

"I know how we can get money." Azelma beamed.

"Are you mad?" Gantaire questioned.

"Out of the question," Enjolras added. "It's just too dangerous."

"But think about it," Azelma reasoned. "If father is locked up the house will be abandoned. It was just the two of us there and I know where he hid all that money. It wouldn't be stealing. We're his daughters so it should be ours anyway."

"There has to be another way," Grantaire said. "We just have to think. I won't put you in danger."

"I'm not a child," Azelma told him.

"Believe me, I know," Grantaire said.

The two stared at each other as the tension built.

"What did I miss?" Enjolras whispered.

Eponine brushed him off. "I'll tell you later."

It was Azelma who broke first. She felt tears stinging her eyes so she turned on a heel and ran off towards the bedroom.

"Let her go," Eponine told him. "Give her some time, she'll be alright."

Grantaire bristled. "I need a drink." He stalked off.

Enjolras and Grantaire were playing cards in the kitchen when Eponine broke the silence with a shriek. "Enjolras! Grantaire! She's gone. Azelma's gone!"

Grantaire was on his feet faster than the alcohol should have let him. "Gone? Where?"

"If I knew that I wouldn't be worried," Eponine snapped.

"Just calm down," Enjolras soothed. "Where would she have gone?"

"Anne said Azelma took her cloak and went outside. Since it was dark she thought my sister just needed some air."

"You don't think…" Enjolras' eyes got huge.

"That she went to get that money?" Grantaire questioned. "She must have. Shit. We have to go after her but we don't know where that man was staying."

"I know where the house is," Eponine spoke up. "She told me the address when she brought up the idea."

Azelma snuck around the house quickly empting all the strong boxes her father had hidden into an empty potato sack. All was dark and quiet and she was sure she'd make it back to Enjolras' house before she was missed.

Confident and happy, she headed to the second floor. A step creaked under her boot and she froze for a moment, the only sound her pounding heart. She relaxed, took a breath, and took another step.

That's when she heard the noise upstairs. A bed groaned and the floor creaked and then she heard her worst nightmare: her father's voice.

"Who's down there?" he bellowed. "No one steals from me."

Azelma ran down the stairs and bolted for the door. Thenardier wasn't far behind and fired his pistol; shattering a window near the far wall. Azelma screamed.

"A girl then?" Thenardier questioned. "Show yourself, damn you. I got no problem putting a bullet in you."

Azelma turned and Thenardier lowered the gun. "Damn you, Azelma! Scared me right good, you did."

"I didn't know you were here," she whispered. "I thought Monsieur Marius had you locked up."

"They couldn't hold me for anything," he told her. "Don't worry about me, I always come back."

Azelma tried not to shutter at that thought. She wanted to leave and go back to Eponine. She'd feel safe with Enjolras and Grantaire. Grantaire. He had been right and she hadn't listened to him.

"Did you find out anything?" Thenardier was asking. "Did that boy have anything worth taking?"

"No," she replied. "He's just a poor friend of Marius'."

"Then what's in the bag?"

Azelma ducked her head. "Potatoes. I was going to cook something after I checked the house. You frightened me, that's all. I thought someone else had moved in since you're arrest."

"God, you're like a terrified mouse." Her father shook her head. "Nothing like your sister. Now she was good at what she did."

"She never liked it," Azelma whispered.

"What'd you say?"

"Nothing." Tears stung Azelma's eyes. She wanted to leave. But with her father standing there she couldn't justify taking the bag as she fled.

"Well since we're both up you might as well cook something for the both of us."

Azelma was stuck, at least until he went to bed. So she turned her back and grabbed two potatoes off the floor. She moved deftly as she went to get a peeler.

"Why are those things all over the floor?" Thenardier questioned.

"I… they spilled when you frightened me."

Thenardier's eyes narrowed as he stood. "Then they would have been by the stairs. And why would you be bringing them upstairs?"

Before Azelma could move Thenardier lunged for the bag at her feet. Opening he cursed. "Money? But you said the boy didn't have any. Were you lying to me?"

"No… It's not his."

He grabbed her roughly by the wrist. "Then whose is it girl?"

"I… I found it."

"Found it where?"

Suddenly the door crashed open and three young men came rushing in. Azelma recognized two of them but didn't know who the third was, as the brim of his hat was pulled down low on his forehead.

"Let her go, Thenardier," Grantaire snarled.

Thenardier looked between his daughter and the men. Then he backhanded her. "You little whore! That's my money you were stealing. You'll pay for this."

"How dare you hit her," Grantaire growled.

He lunged for Thenardier and tacked him. Enjolras moved to help subdue the man as the unknown boy knelt by Azelma's side.

"Azelma? Azelma are you alright?"

Her eyes registered the truth. " 'Ponine? 'Ponine you brought them?"

"I did," she whispered. "This was stupid; coming here alone."

"I thought I could handle it." She sat back against the counter. "I'm alright."

"I knew you were trouble, boy," Thenardier spat.

Enjolras punched him. "Shut up. Men like you need to be locked away. Grantaire, go find some rope."

"That didn't work last time," Thenardier told him. "I still got away then and I will get away this time as well."

Grantaire grabbed him by the shirt. "We should kill him, we'd be doing the world a favor. Besides, no one misses a rat."

"You wouldn't dare kill me," Thenardier laughed. "You don't have it in you."

"He'll never stop coming after us," Eponine said as she stood and pulled something off of the counter.

Thenardeir looked as though he had been hit again. "Eponone? They said you were dead."

She pulled off her hat and her hair tumbled down her back. "I guess they lied."

Raising the frying pan she held, Eponine brought it down hard over her father's head. The force of it sent him crumbling to the ground. She dropped the pan, shoulders heaving as she calmed herself.

Enjolras was immediately there, wrapping his arms around her. "It's alright, love. I've got you."

Azelma looked up as a hand was offered to her. She allowed Grantaire to pull her to her feet. She wavered for a moment before collapsing against him. "I'm sorry. I'm so sorry."

He tangled his fingers in her hair. "I should have apologized to you earlier. If we had talked his out you wouldn't have gotten hurt." He trailed his fingers of the mark on her cheek that would, no doubt, blossom into a bruise. "I'm just glad you're safe. He could have done much worse and I wouldn't have been able to live with that."

"Grantaire?"

He leaned in and kissed Azelma; full and passionately this time. She melted into him, feeling warm and safe in his embrace.

The moment was broken by Enjolras. "We have to get out of here. I want to be long gone before this bastard wakes up. Tomorrow we'll be gone, leaving France behind."

"Go find the rest of the money, Azelma," Eponine said.

"I'll be right back."

Grantaire followed her up the stairs, catching her hand in his. "I'll help you."

Once she reached the top she turned to face him. "Will tomorrow truly be a better start for us?"

"I think it will," Grantaire told her. He took her other hand. "But why think of tomorrow when we have tonight to look forward to as well."

"What happens tonight," Azelma questioned with obvious feigned innocence.

"Tonight neither of us is sleeping alone."


End file.
